Well Worth The Time It's Taken
by BulletBlaze
Summary: "He… I think he did something to me. I think that's why I've been so… affectionate lately." Stiles sees the moment Derek understands. He watches his face fall, feels his hand dropping down to his side, cold and alone. -Or- Stiles is definitely not getting magicked into hugging anyone. Especially not Derek.


**This was for the 12DaysOfSterek 2016 event on tumblr!**

 **Title from 'How The Day Sounds' by Greg Laswell**

 **Enjoy!**

Stiles has no idea how he gets into these situations. The universe must truly hate him.

The thing about his _current_ situation is that he's not dying. Or injured. Or in risk of being injured.

No, he's just sitting in the, admittedly, very comfy lap of the one and only Saint Nicholas.

In the middle of the Beacon Hills Mall.

He's not there of his own volition, make no mistake; that would be because of one Lydia Martin who threatened him with ugly Christmas sweaters if he refused.

And when Lydia Martin threatens, one does not take it lightly.

A pat on the shoulder brings him back to his immediate surroundings, i.e., the thighs of Holly Jolly Santa Claus. Stiles looks back at the warm smile of the old man who does not seem nearly as awkward or uncomfortable as he should with a lap full of nineteen-year-old grown boy. He looks completely at ease with the current arrangement, which means he's either a _really_ good actor, or Stiles should be a little worried about possibly being in the lap of a perverted old man who's into jailbait.

From the corner of his eye, Stiles can see Lydia and Kira stifling their laughs with glove covered hands as Allison is clearly getting visual evidence of his embarrassment.

At least it's early enough that no kids are in line yet.

The elves, however, are hardcore judging him with their eyes. Stiles can't blame them.

"What's your name?" Santa- the actor asks, bringing Stiles out of his head.

"Uh, Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. What's yours?" he returns without thinking.

"Why, I'm Santa Claus!" the man booms.

"I mean, what's your real name?"

Santa- _the actor_ strokes his fluffy beard and says, "Well, I suppose you can call me Kris Kringle!"

Stiles shakes his head with a light chuckle. "Of course, Kris Kringle. Nice to meet you."

"And you, young man! Now, what would you like for Christmas?"

For his friends to stop being in danger every other week. For him to stop coming home with bruises. For him to be able to go to college. For Derek to like him back. For his loved ones to be happy for more than a few months at a time.

He wants a lot of things. Mostly things that probably won't happen.

"A raise would be nice," is what he ends up saying. Another thing that probably won't happen, sadly.

Santa- Kris- _the actor's_ laugh booms through the air, drawing the attention of the scattered shoppers who look on oddly at the scene. Stiles can't help but smile in amusement as well.

When he settles back down, the old man pats Stiles' shoulder a few more times before saying, "I'm not quite sure what I can do about _that_ , now. But I've got a feeling there's more that you would like for Christmas than you're letting on, so I'm going to give you a little encouragement instead. Whatever it is that you want, I think you would benefit from going after it." He sounds genuine, but Stiles inwardly scoffs at the idea. As if there's anything he can actually do to get what he wants. "And that includes asking your boss about that raise!" he adds with a wide, tickled smile.

"Yeah, sure thing, Santa," he says as he gets up and shakes the guy's hand, and then walks back to his friends with his dignity surprisingly intact.

Allison's still pointing the phone at him as he rejoins their group, and he swats his hand at it.

"Alright, alright, get that thing outta here. You've got your blackmail, happy?"

"Very," Lydia says with the devil in her eyes.

Kira finally takes a pause from giggling to look curiously behind Stiles.

"Hey, Santa is staring at you."

Looking very subtly (i.e. not subtle at all) behind him, Stiles sees that the guy certainly is still staring at him. It wouldn't be that weird- Stiles is kind of used to being judged in public places- but the really weird part is the quick movement of the man's lips as he mutters silently to himself.

Shrugging, Stiles turns back to his friends and says, "Maybe he's crazy."

"A job like this would probably drive anyone a little nuts," Allison says.

Lydia waves a dismissive hand, effectively ending the conversation. "Whatever. We still have shopping to do. So, what are you guys getting Boyd? Because I'm a little stumped."

"Lydia Martin, stumped?" Kira teases, nudging Lydia's side.

The light bantering continues as the group walks away from the following gaze of the old man perched on his chair, still muttering after them.

The next morning, the pack gathers at Derek's loft for a night in. Stiles has been feeling a little odd since the previous night, but he brushes it off as nerves from the quickly approaching holiday, which he still isn't completely prepared for.

Upon entering the loft, Stiles is immediately greeted by the sight of a very disgruntled and sleepy Isaac being carried on the back of an almost equally disgruntled Derek. However, Stiles can see the hint of fondness that softens the wrinkle in his brow, the sparkle of contentment that takes the heat out of his glare, and Stiles swears his head swims with the rush of affection he feels.

Derek walks over to the couch and dumps Isaac unceremoniously atop of it. Because, despite his current and undeniable happiness with his new pack, his new family, Derek is still an asshole.

But so is everyone else in their pack, so it's okay.

Except Kira. And no one can be an asshole to Kira without feeling guilty, so they don't even pretend.

However, Stiles doesn't feel like being an asshole today. He feels like showing the people he loves just how much he loves them. And so, Stiles marches over to where Derek is smirking at Isaac, grabs onto his shoulder, turns him around, and wraps his arms around him tightly.

Derek freezes up for a second, probably out of confusion, but then he's returning the hug with only slight hesitation. Being the same height as Derek makes it easy to rub their cheeks together, so that's what Stiles does. Derek lets out an inquisitive sound- somewhere between a purr and a cough- and it sounds so ridiculous coming from Derek that Stiles can't help but laugh.

Derek pulls back to look curiously at Stiles.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, a concerned tone to his voice.

Stiles' eyebrows furrow and his mouth turns down in a perplexed frown.

"What? No, why would anything be wrong?"

"You normally don't… randomly hug me, so I assumed something was bothering you."

Letting his lips pull back up in an easy smile, Stiles snarks, "Well, maybe you shouldn't assume things, Der. _Maybe_ I just wanted to hug my alpha."

Stiles watches as Derek's eyes widen in pleased surprise. He doesn't know if it's because of his reasoning or Stiles calling him his alpha for the first time, but he likes it, and he obviously needs to do it more.

Vowing to make Derek feel more appreciated from now on, Stiles turns and immediately catches the incredulous eye of Isaac, staring up at him from the couch where he's still sprawled.

"What?" he asks.

Isaac tilts his head to the side- like a puppy, bless him- and his eyebrows furrow as he looks for the right words. But before he can come up with anything, a voice pipes up from across the room.

"Oh, please. You can't be _that_ oblivious."

Stiles whips his head up to look questioningly at Lydia, who has a hand on her hip and a gleam in her eye. "What's that supposed to mean?" he exclaims as he throws his hands up.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia says, "Not you. Isaac."

Now Isaac snaps his gaze over to Lydia, and asks the same question, "What the hell do you mean?"

Lydia is starting to look genuinely concerned at their supposed obliviousness and looks to Derek for some sort of relief, only to see his matching confused expression.

She lets out an annoyed grunt, scoffing incredulously and muttering insults under her breath as she crosses the room and seats herself in an armchair.

The three perplexed boys shake themselves out of their stupors and the day continues as usual.

The following week sees Stiles giving much needed hugs and help to his packmates, simply because he doesn't stop himself anymore. He's always been an affectionate person towards the people he loves, but he never knew how it would be received by his new family, so he hadn't acted on his urges. And although the pack got confused sometimes, they also readily accepted everything Stiles had to give them, drinking it up and returning it to each other in little ways until the entire pack seemed happier and more content than they ever had before. Especially Derek.

Stiles is dragging him, Cora, Erica, and Malia out to the mall so they can finish their pack Christmas shopping when it all comes to a head.

"Why do _we_ need to be here, anyway? We've finished our shopping already, you're the only one who's not done," Cora points out.

"Actually, Malia doesn't have any presents so far, so after you guys help me, we're gonna split up and two of you will go with her to get some stuff. I chose you guys because the only person I have left to shop for is Boyd and I have no idea what to get him."

Despite their initial whining, Cora and Erica were a big help in giving him ideas. Once he had a gameplan for the trip, Cora and Erica took Malia to go get some gifts for the rest of the pack, and Derek went with Stiles to find something for Boyd.

"What about this?" asks Derek.

"Hmm.. no. It's not personal enough."

"Erica mentioned something like this?"

"That's too easy, though. I need to find something that no one else is gonna get him."

"Why are you obsessing over this?"

"I'm not obsessing! I just want it to be perfect, okay? I got everyone else a personal gift that I know will be special. Boyd deserves the same."

Stiles' frustration is evident as he shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away from Derek, hiding his reddened face.

But Derek approaches his slowly and steps back into his view, looking on with concern.

"Of course he does, I'm not arguing with that. I've just never seen you get this worked up over something like this before."

Stiles deflates, moving forward and dropping his head onto Derek's shoulder. Derek grunts in surprise, and then awkwardly rubs Stiles' back.

"I don't know. I guess I just want to make everyone happy. They deserve to be happy, and I don't know how else to make that happen."

Stiles feels dejected, disappointed, frustrated, helpless, desperate. He must sound it, too, because Derek fully embraces him, throwing all awkwardness away to make room for comfort and support.

"Just being there makes them happy, Stiles. You do so much for us, all of us. You don't need to get us gifts to make us happy."

"...Really?"

"Really."

And just like that, all the negative emotions fogging up Stiles' mood dissipate. He feels warmth curl gently in his stomach, the lump in his throat softens, and a happy smile tugs at his lips. He pulls back from Derek while squeezing his arm, and then leans in to place a warm kiss on his cheek, enjoying the way Derek's arms tighten around him before letting him go. "Thanks, Der."

After a moment of sending flustered smiles at one another, Stiles says, "But I still wanna get an awesome present for Boyd. So we have to try just a few more stores!" and grabs Derek's hand, dragging him out of the store they're loitering in and down a different direction.

Feeling bold, Stiles doesn't let go of Derek's hand, even as he loses the excuse to keep holding on.

They're leaving the last store- where Stiles _finally_ finds the perfect present- when Derek stops short, his hand tightening around Stiles' and forcing him to stop, too. He looks around, nostrils flaring discreetly as he smells the air around them.

"What is it? Derek?" Stiles tries to get his attention.

"There's a witch. Over there, somewhere, in the crowd around the Santa guy."

Stiles' eyes widen and he looks over to where Derek is gazing. The Santa actor is talking excitedly with a little girl in his lap, pats her shoulder as she gets up and skips back to her parents, and then his eyes suddenly meet Stiles'. He looks at Stiles and then flickers his gaze pointedly at Derek, smiles and nods, and then greets a small boy with a jolly grin.

And Stiles knows.

"It's Santa. He… he's the witch."

"How do you know?"

Taking a deep breath, Stiles explains, "A week ago, I was here and Lydia made me go sit on his lap. He told me I should act on what I wanted and when we were leaving, we saw him muttering while staring at me. Like he was chanting or something. He… I think he did something to me. I think that's why I've been so… affectionate lately."

Stiles sees the moment Derek understands. He watches his face fall, feels his hand dropping down to his side, cold and alone.

And he doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"Derek," Stiles starts, getting right in front of him. "Derek, I'm not being forced to do this. I can tell, okay? I know what it feels like to be forced to do something and this isn't it. I want to; I want to be like this with you all, I promise." He lifts his hands to Derek's shoulders, starts to pull him into a hug out of habit, not thinking about the possible implications. But Derek shrugs him off, steps out of his reach, and it hurts.

"No," Derek grounds out, sounding pained. "If this is all some curse, we need to figure out how to break it."

"Derek-"

"I thought… We all thought this was just a new side of you. But if it's not, we need to fix it."

"No, Derek, listen to me!" Stiles feels desperate, so, so desperate for Derek to understand. He feels like he's losing something. "I've always wanted this! I've always wanted it to be like this, I just never knew if you guys did, so I didn't do anything! It's me, I swear to god it's all me!"

But Derek isn't having it, even if he looks like he wants to believe him.

"This could all be some spell, Stiles, don't you get that? The hugs, the advice you've been giving everyone, the presents. It could all be a something else."

Stiles gets one last look at Derek's ruined expression before he sees the walls go back up. They haven't been there in a long time, and the sight makes Stiles want to punch something, hard and repeatedly, until his knuckles break and his eyes fill with tears because this is _his fault._ And he doesn't know how to fix it.

So he just stares brokenly as Derek says, "We'll come back as the mall is closing, catch him when he's leaving, and figure out what he did to you. Until then… I think it would be best if we dropped you off at your house."

And, really, what else is there to do? So Stiles nods, even as his heart is breaking.

After a day of moping around his house and sulking in bed, Derek picks Stiles up to go back to the mall.

The ride is full of tension so tangible and thick, Stiles could crush it in his fist.

Well, he wishes he could. That would be great.

Once inside the mall, the two of them seek out the Santa guy, following him after he emerges from the bathroom in normal clothes- round stomach and fluffy white beard the only sign that he plays Santa Claus. They track him back to his car using Derek's nose, keeping a good distance so as not to be noticed.

But once they're alone in the parking lot, no one else around as the mall closes, Derek drops the act and slams the guy against the side of his car.

"Who are you and what did you do to him," Derek growls in his face, claws on display.

The man simply smiles and looks over at Stiles. "He's a protective one, isn't he? You're lucky to have him."

Stiles steps forward. "What did you do to me?" he repeats.

"Nothing drastic, don't worry. I simply gave you the push that you needed. Tell me, have you gotten that raise yet?"

Perplexed at his casual and conversational tone- as if he wasn't currently being threatened by a large werewolf- Stiles shakes his head.

"No- but that's not important! You did something to me, and I need to know what it is! Did you put me under some kind of spell? Or am I acting of my own free will?"

The man looked genuinely confused as he said, "Well of course you're acting of your own free will. I would never curse someone like that, nor do I think I could. Like I said, I simply gave you the courage that you lacked, that's all. And I'd say it's done you some good, has it not?"

"So I'm not doing anything I don't want to do?" Stiles stresses the question, feeling hope and relief mixing in his stomach and heart.

"I didn't even know what you wanted when I first met you, young man! All I knew was that there was _something_ you desperately wanted, but didn't know how to get it. So, in a way, I helped release your fears of failure. The courage I lent you only lasted for a day, but I assume by then you had realized how happy it made you to go after what you wanted. Your actions are your own, Mr. Stilinski, I can assure you of that."

Stiles lets out a breath he hasn't realized he's been holding. He places a hand on Derek's arm, tugging until the werewolf lets go of and backs away from the witch.

Derek doesn't pull away, and Stiles feels lighter than he has all day.

Derek asks, curiously instead of threateningly, "Why would you use your energy like that on a stranger?"

The man simply returns, "Why wouldn't I? We're not all evil, you know. Helping people be happy is what makes life worth living."

Stiles understands. "That's why you do what you do. Being Santa for little kids."

The answering smile is so brilliant Stiles can't help but smile, too. The guy seems to have that kind of effect on people.

"It brings them such joy. And sometimes I can help others in need as well."

Derek clears his throat. "Sorry about… that."

The man smiles happily at Derek, pats his arm, and shakes his head. "Nothing to apologize for, young man. I'm glad you care for each other so much. The world could use a little more care, in my opinion. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get going."

"Yeah, of course! Um, sorry, again. For all this. And… Thanks. For the courage. I needed it," Stiles admits.

"Anytime," he smiles and climbs into his car. Before he can close the door, though, Stiles stops him.

"Hey, what's your name?"

Playful smile still at home on his lips, he says, "Call me Kris."

And then he drives off.

Stiles stares after the car with his mouth hanging open until Derek nudges him in the side.

"Stiles, he's not actually Santa."

"How do we know that?! He could totally be Santa! Werewolves are real, why can't Santa be real?" Stiles exclaims.

"Derek just rolls his eyes fondly. "Even if Santa was real, why would he be in Beacon Hills of all places?"

"Derek, if Santa is real, he can obviously be in more than one place at once. How do you think he gets presents all over the world?"

Staring with a soft smile on his face, Derek shakes his head with a chuckle. He seems much happier than he did earlier, and Stiles is so damn grateful. So grateful and happy that he can't seem to contain it.

"Derek?" he starts. "Now that we've sorted all this out, can I finally hug you?"

At Derek's almost shy nod, Stiles doesn't hesitate to throw himself at the man, holding on tightly and surely.

"See?" he whispers into Derek's neck. "All me. All real."

Derek holds Stiles even closer.

The next week the pack has Christmas at the loft. Everyone is there with their families, exchanging gifts and giving hugs and eating amazing food and being happy.

Derek pulls Stiles under the mistletoe hanging by the stairs, pressing their lips together, soundly and without hesitation. Isaac gapes in confusion, Lydia mutters 'finally', and the rest smile and whistle and cheer.

Afterwards, John congratulates them, giving his blessing, before pulling Derek into a hug and telling him, "Welcome to the family, son."

Derek can't seem to stop smiling all night, and Stiles continues to not feel guilty about zoning out while gazing at him in awe.

And when Stiles wakes up the next morning, wrapped tightly in the arms of Derek, who's watching him with a soft and real smile on his face, Stiles sends out a thought of gratitude to Kris. Because things are good, and everyone is okay, and Derek is happy. _Stiles_ is happy. And whether it's a Christmas miracle or just good timing, Stiles is grateful.


End file.
